YOU SLUT! - Repost

(July 2006)
The almighty Red Headed Slut motivated me to post this blog starting around ohhhhh, 2:45am. I have recently become quite the night owl. I get up at 6am each morning, yet I can't seem to put head to pillow until well after 1am. But tonight I said to myself, it is time to hang out with the girls. This decision reacquainted me with "her", The Red Headed Slut, or as I like to call her drunken death in a 4oz shot glass. The evening started off slut free and innocently enough

I was invited to a birthday dinner for one of my friends and my plan was to go to dinner, go get my son, go home and go to bed. Like a good little mommy should. Not so much. I wound up not having my son tonight and went bar hoping locally with about 15 friends and acquaintances. This isn't as exciting as it sounds even though we did manage to make it a fun little outing. I was born, raised, and reside again on an island that is 5 miles long and 3 miles wide. The night life in Fernandina is comparable to cow tipping. Stupid, but yet we keep doing it out of sheer boredom as a sad attempt at entertainment. (I know nothing about cow tipping except what I have learned from the movies, but it seemed like a good comparison.) Fernandina night life is very routine. Dinner, go to the Turtle, then off to either the Palace or the Falcons Nest. Tonight all of my girl friends and their boyfriends decided to go to the Falcons Nest so they can dance. This is the only place on the island where you can get your groove on to something besides Bob Marley or Jimmy Buffet.

I personally hate dancing. My ex husband made fun of the way I danced (among many other things) so I am still fairly phobic about dancing. I do feel better and better about it as time goes by and each time I Get Low, Shake my Lovely Lady Lumps, or Back that azz up

I actually dance very well, or so I am told. But due to my hang-ups I have to be fairly intoxicated to even get near the dance floor. This is where the problem starts and my Red headed friend rears her ugly head. I started the evening off very responsibly drinking 2 beers at a local pub and feeling good and sober then we are off to the Nest. It always goes the same way, my friends try and pry me from my chair with pleas to get out there and dance with them as if they don't already know the routine...

I say as I always do. "I am not drunk enough to dance." That is where I always fuck up. They all toss shot after shot at me to help me achieve a "dancing buzz" as quickly as possible. I shun their offers for about 20 minutes. Then I finally, as I always do, say FUCK IT, just take the damned shots.

Enter bar left, the Red Headed Slut. She is made of Jager and something red, tastes like either Cherry Kool-Aid or Anti-freeze. Regardless, I did two in a row at the cheering of all of my friends Then proceeded to drink 2 more Corona's. Fast forward 20 minutes, I am out on the dance floor feeling as comfortable as a Solid Gold dancer via 1982. Shaking my ass and getting my groove on to one of my favorite songs, "Let me clear my throat" ala DJ Kool. I asked the DJ, whom I went to HS with, to play this little ditty because there were only 10 people on the dance floor and frankly it was pathetic (but made for excellent people watching activities). The hard wood consisted of tourists and a bridal party dancing like they are on fire and practicing Stop, Drop, and Roll to the beat of Ludacris. No one else was brave enough to break the dance threshold.

Once he started this little blast from the past the dance floor filled immediately and we proceeded to dance our asses off. Then because my local DJ loves me and knows me oh so well he then proceeded to play "Set it off" by, I have no fucking clue because it is from 1990 and is totally obscure. He knows I love it and plays it when he sees me hit the dance floor. I suppose there are advantages to going to school with 1/3 of the town you reside in. I digress, there are also several disadvantages. But that is a blog of another color meant for another day

The point of this slightly intoxicated blog is this. I hate that Red Headed bitch that frequently seems to be my social/alcohol accelerant of choice. Some nights it is Petron, some nights it is some odd colored cleverly named concoction that a friend or drunken bar patron insists is the best shot EVER. BTW- It always ends up tasting like a glass of Berry Juicy Juice mixed with 2 shots of Drain-O.

I wrap up this verbal regurgitation feeling my buzz fading, my head clearing, and my eyes focusing (Thanks to 2 Excedrin and Gatoraid.) The slut can be a bitch but luckily never overstays her welcome. One thing to be thankful for...

I hope everyone has a pleasant 4th of July and please, I beg all of you, be safe with you fireworks. If I receive one more video in my e-mail of a jack ass trying to launch a bottle rocket from between his ass cheeks my brain is going to implode. This is so ignorant I can't stand it yet I have seen 3 separate videos of different men attempting this task. FYI-You will catch your ass on fire. So be smart and safe with your fireworks. I have friends who work in ER's on the 4th and they don't want to see you there with 3rd degree ass burns.

Toodles~~